Sometimes when I touch her, she's frozen. Her petals are frosted and icy to the core. Her stem suspended into a life-like etch against the background snow. And her leaves... her leaves become as brittle as the things around her. But still, still she is rooted and still she alone makes the picture so lovely. She never looses her color.
When the sun comes out, it shines for her. Warms her until her heart beats again. Sunbeams tilt her head up towards the warm sky. And the sun shines for her. Just for her.
Sometimes I feel
like a winter bloom.
A scarlet rose
in the dead of winter.
Copyright © 2012 C. JoyBell C. All rights reserved.